


until the sun rises

by playedwright



Series: most precious gold [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Get Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, basically just dorks who finally get it together at the last possible second
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 12:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20389909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playedwright/pseuds/playedwright
Summary: Co-captaincy has given them these early mornings, and it has given Holster a thousand more reasons to fall hard and fast for Ransom.Not that he needed any convincing in that area. He’s always been lurking around it, if he’s being honest.





	until the sun rises

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on [tumblr](https://tonytangredis.tumblr.com/post/186667393187/holsom-for-51).

Early morning practices are, in Holster’s humble opinion, usually the worst thing ever.

The only time he finds them acceptable are on the days they’re in here before the sun even rises. Even though it’s an  _ ungodly  _ time to be awake and exercising, it means they’re done before the sun rises, and it means he and Ransom can usually hang out and watch as the pinks and yellows break over the skyline and spill across the ice.

Holster values these mornings over most other things, now more than ever. Co-captaincy has given them these mornings, and it has given Holster a thousand more reasons to fall hard and fast for Ransom.

Not that he needed any convincing in that area. He’s always been lurking around it, if he’s being honest.

Things have been teetering between them recently. Always on the edge of friendship or something more. Holster knows they’ve always toed the line; hell, they made a joke out of it their sophomore year, after the fifth time in one week someone had asked if they were dating. Holster knows they’ve always been flirty and touchy and close. And of course, there was always that kegster from their frog year—

Well. They don’t talk about that.

But the point still stands. Things have been teetering. Holster eases himself down on the bench after he sees Nursey and Chowder finally exit the rink. His skate hits the wall when he stretches out his leg. He only has two seconds to himself before Ransom joins him on the bench and sits down right next to him.

They’re so close their arms are brushing. They’re so close that Holster is 78% sure he can feel Ransom’s actual heartbeat, even between both of their jerseys.

“Good run today, man,” Ransom tells him. He rolls his head back and sighs heavily. “I swear, those frogs get younger every damn year.”

“Tadpoles,” Holster reminds him. “We’re calling them taddies this year.”

Ransom swears under his breath. “Confusing as hell. What are they gonna call these toddlers next year? Eggs? There’s only so many stages in a frog’s life before it’s just a frog. Dex and Nursey and Chowder can chill, they don’t have to be  _ the  _ Frogs.”

“Aw, c’mon Ransy. I think it’s cute. They’re bonding.”

Ransom chuckles. He shifts his head forward until he can rest it on Adam’s shoulder. “I knew you had a secret soft spot for those kids.”

Holster rolls his eyes. “They aren’t that much younger than you, Justin.”

“Yeah, but they act like it. Were we like that when we were frogs? My god. I can’t even begin to imagine the shit we put poor Winger through. Guy probably wanted to strangle us,” Ransom groans. “I feel like I’m the father of five. Oh god, are we fathers? Fathers of twenty-two stinky, terrible,  _ annoying  _ hockey boys?”

“You’re being dramatic,” Holster laughs. He nudges Ransom with his elbow. “Besides. You don’t really think it’s all that bad, do you?”

Ransom opens his eyes at sits forward. Outside the windows, the sun is just barely starting to rise. They have a few minutes before color fills the rink. It’s quiet and calm, and as Ransom’s face opens up to take it all in, Holster thinks he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“Nah,” Ransom admits. He turns to Holster and winks; there’s a twinkle in his eye. “I guess this kind of stuff makes it all worth it.”

It’s moments like this where he thinks maybe there’s something more happening between them. It’s moments like this where he starts to hope maybe,  _ maybe _ .

He’s trying to find the courage to just say it.

This is their last season. This is their last  _ year.  _ Ransom could be in med school next year—hell, he could be halfway across the country somewhere next year. He’s been doing interviews alongside Holster at a lot of the same places.  _ Plan B,  _ he says, like he’s truly afraid he won’t get into med school. Holster knows differently. Anyone would be lucky to have Ransom.

Holster’s starting to worry he’ll never get a chance like this again.

“There’s nothing better than this rink in the morning, you know? Doesn’t it just make you feel alive?” Ransom wonders out loud.

Holster closes his eyes. One, two, three steadying breaths. Then he says, “You make me feel alive.”

Pressed against his arm, he can feel it when Ransom stiffens. Fear curls around in Holster’s stomach, piercing and hot. He wonders, with how they’re pressed together, if Ransom can feel how hard he’s shaking.

“Adam,” Ransom whispers. He sucks in a sharp breath. “Don’t fuck with me, man.”

Tears well behind Holster’s eyes, of their own accord. He keeps them squeezed shut to keep any tears from falling. He drops his head and leans forward. “I’m not,” Holster whispers. “Dude, swear on my life. Never been more serious.”

“You know you’re my best bro, Holtzy.”

Holster covers his face with his hands. He can’t stop the tears from falling, not now.

“Fuck, dude, are you crying?!”

“It’s alright,” Holster says. He must force himself to stand up because his feet are moving before he even notices it. “Bubbe would smack me if she could see me right now. ‘Adam, you must be  _ meshuggeneh _ , what do you think you’re doing?’—”

It’s a poor imitation of his grandmother, and Ransom has met her enough times that Holster half-expects Rans to call him out about it. He doesn’t expect Ransom to stand up and follow him as he tries to make a break for the ice.

He doesn’t expect Ransom to grab hold of his wrist and tug him back.

He  _ definitely  _ doesn’t expect Ransom to look so frustrated and hopeful when Holster finally meets his gaze.

“You gotta be a hundred percent real with me right now, bro,” Ransom says. Behind him, Faber glistens as the sunrise finally begins to peek through the windows. Holster thinks it’s fitting for the moment; he’s achingly in love with Ransom, and Ransom looks heartbreakingly beautiful right now.

“I’m always a hundred percent with you, Rans,” Holster reminds him. His voice is barely a fraction of his regular volume; quieter now than it is even in the mornings when Ransom would wake up anxious and need a gentle voice to talk him down. “You know that.”

Ransom’s eyes are searching his face. Holster wonders what he’s looking for there. “I don’t know what I know anymore,” Ransom admits. “I’m fucking confused, man.”

“Shit, Justin, do you need me to spell it out for you?!” Holster exclaims. “I’ve got my heart on my goddamn sleeve. I don’t know how else to offer it to you. You want a hundred percent? I’ve been halfway in love with you ever since freshman year. Completely gone on you for as long as I can remember. You’re my best friend and I would never give that up, but—dammit, Justin, sometimes you really make me wish we were more.”

“It’s been four fucking years, Adam.”

Holster drops his head. “Yeah. It’s a long time to be in love with your best friend. Can’t tell you how much it sucks.”

Ransom lets out a startled laugh. “You trying to prove your Bubbe right, you moron? You don’t have to tell me how much it sucks. I  _ know _ how much it sucks.”

“Wh—” Holster’s head snaps up. Ransom is looking at him with nothing but hope in his expression now. He’s still got ahold of Holster’s wrist. It’s not enough contact, not by a longshot. “You’re shitting me. You’re not shitting me? You—”

“Shit, dude, for someone who acted like he had to spell it out for me, you sure are taking your time wrapping your head around this,” Ransom says. There’s a tantalizing grin on his face. “You need  _ me _ to spell it out this time, or are you gonna kiss me since we’ve both been waiting for it for years?”

Holster grabs a fistful of Ransom’s practice jersey and hauls him forward.

Ransom kisses the same way he did his freshman year; he’s gained a bit more finesse, but he is still warm and eager and perfect. Adam doesn’t remember it being this good. He can’t think of a single other kiss that’s been half as good as this one.

Maybe it’s because it’s been four years in the making. Or maybe it’s because he and Ransom have always been perfect complements of one another. They settled so firmly into friendship all those years ago that there wasn’t even a chance to consider exploring this side of it. Holster is desperate to memorize the feel of Ransom pressed against him like this, the feel of Ransom’s lips moving against his, the feel of the heat that pools and curls and writhes around in his belly. If they were standing on the ice, Holster is certain they’d melt right through it.

“Faber probably isn’t the best place for this,” Ransom finally says. He breaks away sound breathless and looking wrecked, and Holster has to fight down the surge of pride that rushes through his body. This is unlike anything he’s ever known before.

“I would argue that Faber is a great place for this.”

Ransom laughs and turns away when Holster leans in for another kiss. Holster doesn’t let up; he kisses Ransom loudly and messily on the cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! <3
> 
> as always, you can find me [here](https://tonytangredis.tumblr.com/) crying over some hockey player or another.
> 
> comment, kudos, and bookmark below!


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